Animal Warfare: The Zootopia Chronicles
by Durriken
Summary: "Welcome to Zootopia, where anyone can be anything. Even dead." – Nick
1. Chapter 1

A/N: If Zootopia were **R-rated** , I imagine it'd be something like this, all-out **_animal warfare_**.

Chapter 1: "I'm sorry for the skunk-butt rug"

 **XXX**

 **11:37pm, Tundra Town….**

There were usually two types of cold: the normal kind that came from mother nature due to a particularly frosty day… and then there was the unnatural kind, the kind that stemmed from an outside source, like, for instance, the chill that came with feeling a gelatinous splatter sink into your fur.

Judy Hopps shivered in the misty room, reaching up to caress that splotch of brain-numbing cold. What she scrapped off, what she saw on her paw, was blood. She was more or less paint-balled with it.

"Definitely going to need a bath after this one…."

She stood atop a white mountain, which wasn't really a mountain so much as a pile of polar bears, but with her height, it certainly felt like a mountain. In reality, it was a motionless mountain of about four bears, a mountain dripping and suffused in the same blood freezing itself to Judy's cheeks.

Like it was little more than a throne, Judy leaned back, her legs dangling over the slack-faced polar bear directly beneath her. "Figuring out how many bullets one of you bears can take, I'll be honest when I say that that wasn't really on my to-do list when I signed up for the ZPD, Nick."

Even if the mist was thick, and ripe with the metallic stench of blood, there was no missing the red fur of her trusted partner.

Nor that snarky, animalistic grin, which displayed his glinting canines.

"Hey, it's the little things you learn, right? Although I myself rather love the unexpected," he chuckled. "Like this, for instance. I never once expected that one day I'd be the one to put an end to this little rat…."

The 'little rat' in question was none other than Mr. Big, the long-running shrew crime boss of Tundra Town, once a terrifying visage of cruelty reduced now to a bruised rodent in half a ripped tuxedo.

And stuck hanging from the wall by a throwing dart, expertly flung by Nick who Judy was astonished to learn possessed quite the eagle's eye with his aiming.

"You think… just because you come in here, deep-six my bears, that I'll roll over and give in?" Breathless and wheezing in pain, the once-glorious Mr. Big still clung to his ill-gotten importance, staring over the barrel of Nick's gun and into that fox's face. "Well, Nicholas… I refuse."

That was probably meant to offset the tension in the air with some sort of defiance, to shift things back in Mr. Big's favor, but the smirk on Nicholas Wilde's face only grew wider.

"It's a shame you feel that way, Mr. B. It don't…." The most euphoric sensation overtook Nick in that moment and he started to chuckle, his firing arm remaining ever taut. "Ahhh, crud… sorry… it's just the satisfaction, you know? How the cards can turn so _quick_ , you go from being on the floor like an insect to actually grabbing a seat at the table! But, I digress, like I was saying, it don't matter much, but it is a shame. Almost nostalgic in a way, remembering how not so long ago you were threatening to ice Carrots and me… almost a year ago…."

Mr. Big's snorted, actually retched, then spat a flurried mix of spit and blood right into Nick's face. In a blink, Judy had a paw on her weapon but Nick merely extended a staying hand in her direction. "Getting sentimental now, Nicholas? Yearning for the good old days, my boy?" A hoarse laugh squeaked up out of Mr. Big. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, you or your little bunny girlfriend."

Disgust lined every inch of Nick's face as he wiped his eyes clear. "Okay, first off, that was just… unnecessary." He then carelessly flicked the spittle right back at Mr. Big. "You can have that back. And secondly, it's the job of my little bunny girlfriend to know exactly what it is we're getting ourselves into. Don't get mad just because we figured things out, it's a little too late for that."

"And no one likes a sore loser, Mr. Big," Judy chimed in, squirming on her throne of polar bears. They were starting to really chaff her rear—all that rigor mortis and cold, not to mention the wetness of blood—so when Judy decided to hop down, she glanced about Mr. Big's once-illustrious office. Just a few minutes prior to the massive shoot-out that left over nine polar bears dead and Mr. Big strung up on the wall like he was, she remembered it being exactly the same as when they had last visited.

Back when they needed his help scaring information out of that weasel, Duke Weaselton….

Like Nick said, that time _did_ seem so long ago, almost like a distant memory. Looking back, never had Judy thought that one day, after enlisting his aide and even attending his daughters wedding, that she would have to take Mr. Big down.

For good.

Given that he was a well-known crime lord, logically, this was always the scripted outcome, his bust, but for some odd reason, she just never really saw it playing out. Ever. Every animal who possessed a working pair of ears knew of Mr. Big, and they also knew he was neigh untouchable and never left traces that could be linked back to him, hence his limo service, which put him at odds in the public view.

" _How could someone who runs a service like that possibly be up to no good_?" the populous would shout.

" _Mr. Big gave my husband a job when no one else would_!" yelled an irate wife.

" _He helped fund my start-up company in Savanna Central_!"

" _The guy's been misidentified because of his company_!"

" _He's a saint! He provides any animal a means for gain_!"

It created a morally ambiguous problem for the ZPD. Clearly, in a majority of the public's eye, Mr. Big was little more than a somewhat harsh businessman giving them excellent service. That sort of leeway tended to blind the masses to what was really going on.

Sort of like Assistant Mayor Bellwether. So frail and helpful in the light, but conniving and unhinged in the shadows.

Well, when Chief Bogo was left with his paws tied up in the fiasco of trying to bring down the diminutive crime lord, the newly reinstated mayor of Zootopia, Leodore Lionheart, would have none of his police officers left twiddling their paws.

" _If there is crime in my city, it will, unequivocally, be sniffed out and stamped out! I sincerely hope that I am not returning to find my beloved Zootopia actually gearing up to defend the unlawful actions of an individual who may or may not be guilty merely because they happen to provide public service and job opportunities. If so, then I am severely disappointed, but I will not allow any further acts of criminal activity to lay claim to our metropolis, not now, not ever."_

That was Mayor Lionheart's official public announcement on his third day back in office, taking over for Chief Bogo who had reluctantly assumed duty as acting mayor until a ruling was had and shifts were made.

The general consensus behind Lionheart's reinstatement was simple: while he, the predator, had fueled and abetted in illegal activities "for the greater good", the prey, Dawn Bellwether, had formed an entire animus to overthrow and eventually eliminate the entire predatory line altogether.

Add to it, prior to his wrongdoing, Lionheart had performed his mayoral duties with peerless punctuality, and adding even more, he was already a beloved and charismatic figurehead, so the big debate for his return was really only spectacle for news stations across the major districts.

Assuming his role with that standard Lionheart flair, he wasted no time in setting his citizens straight on who held the authority and what was to be expected. Regardless of stature or wealth or notoriety, no one, not even himself, was above the law.

"No one… is above the law." Nick snorted, his absolute adoration for this moment shining through in droves. "Honestly, Bigster, if you hadn't gotten sloppy with your drop-offs, this might have gone a helluva lot differently."

The drop-offs Nick was so delightfully referring to tied into Mr. Big's back-channeling to the other major districts. Everything from government documentation to illegal substances to animals themselves—he funneled them out of and into Zootopia via Tundra Town.

For who knows how long this cycle continued, or for how long it _would_ have continued, if Finnick hadn't tipped Nick off after catching sight of two of Mr. Big's limo's exchanging a bound walrus between them. For that, considering Finnick ceased all contact between him and Nick since the latter joined the ZPD, Finnick earned himself a one-month grace period for his hustling, which had apparently seen a boost in revenue with Nick gone.

"Praise to Finnick, that adorable little furball. Now, our gracious police chief Boogaloo ordered us to bring you in alive, or dead, if you put up any resistance. Soooo, I think all of this"—Nick waved his free hand around at the macabre scene—"counts as not only putting up a resistance, but a _strong_ resistance at that. Wouldn't you say, Bigster?"

Even though one eye was nearly swollen shut and the other barely visible anyway, there was no missing the deep-seated loathing blaring from Mr. Big's eyes. If he could have swung himself free, Judy felt felt sure the crime boss would have made gouging out Nick's throat his last act in life.

"Enjoy standing on the shoulders of the small while you can, my dear Nicholas, enjoy every single second of it." There was something deeply menacing about the way Mr. Big began to smirk. "You claim to understand the situation, you claim you've done your homework, but in reality, you haven't the slightest clue of my importance here, of what I do for Zootopia."

Now Judy stepped forward, clearly affronted at the pseudo-implication of ignorance. "Excuse me, Mr Big, but I'll have you know that when I come for something, I come having examined every angle," she began, placing a hand on her tilted hips while pointing a stern finger, "so for you to even imply that I may have missed something is rather rude."

Glancing down at his vertically-challenged partner, Nick couldn't help but bite into his bottom lip with a sardonic grin. "Carrots, you just don't know what you do to me when you get all stern like that… the finger pointing, your twitching nose, just…."

Judy hushed him with a wave of her paw, rolling her eyes. "Quiet, you silly fox, it's too cold, I'm too tired, and I'm not done yet." Her voice snapped back to its scolding tone as she returned focus to Mr. Big. "So enlighten me, because I'm sincerely curious, what could I possibly have missed?"

Her response was relayed in Mr. Big's usual wheeze of lethargy. "Rabbits… so good at math, multiplication especially, but you… unable to figure out this simple calculation."

While a brilliant shade of embarrassed red invaded Judy's cheeks, Nick let out a soft "Oh", like he had discovered something previously hidden, and pulled his gun back. "That's right, hold on…" He flipped a button on the side with his thumb and the ammo clip fell out, which he swiftly replaced with another one, cocked it, and resumed pointing it at Mr. Big. "I was about three seconds from pulling the trigger when I suddenly remembered I'd prepared a special round just for this situation. It's a hollow point that I carved your face into."

"Then I'm sure it looks more like an elephant than me," Mr. Big replied. "You were never one for artistry, Nicholas…." Those beady, bloodshot eyes rolled over to Judy, now tapping her foot in wait for a serious answer. "I would suggest setting up a meeting with ex-assistant mayor Dawn Bellwether, little bunny."

Those words had all the affect of a brick to the face for the way Judy stumbled back, aghast. "W-with… but she's… what could she _possibly_ know about you, about _this_?"

"Yeah, I sincerely doubt she's knows the 411 considering she's been in _jail_ all this time," Nick snarled.

"And since when has jail ever kept anyone determined enough from getting information? Or… leaking it for that matter."

Not even Nick could hide the shock from his face, his eyes widening in tune with Judy's and they glanced at each other.

"What… what're you trying to say?" Judy pushed, her brow furrowed. "You… she hasn't been giving you intel, has she? Or… or is it the other way around? Have you been helping her? But then… why? She can't—"

He cut her off with the most indifferent huff. "Give the sheep some visitation, and you will know. Now, go on, officers, do what you came here to do. You have your culprit, you have your information—do it."

Still looking somewhat befuddled, Judy bumped Nick with her hip. "You heard the shrew."

Nick nodded, letting the surprise from earlier bleed out of his tense shoulders, and he grinned. "Well, it's been a pleasure, Bigster, but hey, when you see gram-mama, tell her I'm sorry for the skunk butt rug. Nothing personal."

"Nicholas," the shrew began with a tired chuckle, "you truly are a heartless bas—"

The piercing bang that brought about a wave of silence, that prematurely ended Mr. Big's statement, wasn't the sound of Nick's gun going off; it was the office side-door being thrown open and crashing off the wall.

"Well, I'll be…." Still just as zeroed in on his target as before, Nick didn't so much as flinch at the noise, even if out the corner of his eye he could make out the hulking figure of one of the larger polar bears. "Carrots, really? I'm disappointed, I thought you said you got all the leftovers."

Judy stared the haggard bear up and down, quickly noticing how he was missing half an ear and bled from a chunk torn from his left hindleg. "I'm going to guess this fellow is the end result of me figuring out how many bullets a polar bear can take before it goes down, and I'm only counting…." She squinted, scanning the polar bears' eviscerated front. "Four. Four holes. That's probably why he's still walking around, he's five bullets shy of a dirt nap."

Nick would have chuckled but the most godawful of screeches suddenly blew out from between the polar bears cupped paws, and it continued, rising in pitch, causing his eardrums to throb.

"Hey!" Nick called. "Snowball! You have exactly negative three seconds to put a lid on that noise before I—"

His words were all but drowned out when the polar bear revealed a shrew sitting in its palm, a very ruffled, very traumatized female shrew gripping the larger bears fingers in her tiny little clutch. "DADDY!"

"Ooooh, I see…." Digging into his ringing ear with his free hand, Nick nodded at the other shrew. "Well, this is unfortunate, yeah? That you have to see your pops catch a b—"

"FRU FRU GET—MMPH!" The gun in Mr. Big's face jumped forward, engulfing his entire snout in the barrel and rendering him unable to speak beyond frantic grunts.

Nick 'tsk, tsk'd, shaking a scolding finger. "See, that's what you're not going to do, give demands, not when I'm here."

" _Daddy_! Daddy, what's going on—all of our bears, they're… they're dead and—JUDY!" It was nearly heart-wrenching, watching Fru-Fru's tear-stricken face light up with some modicum of hope at the sight of Judy. "Wh-what's going on, why's Nick pointing that at my daddy? I don't understand…."

Slowly, her words died, just became nothing when Judy lifted her own weapon, a metallic-gray pistol with her name inscribed on the handle in cursive, and aimed it at the polar bear.

"Ju… Judy…?" All the scarcely gathered relief drained out of Fru-Fru like a plug being pulled, leaving her gaunt and trembling. "Wh… I—I…."

"I'm sorry, Fru-Fru." Judy's apology was hollow, nothing more than rocks against Fru-Fru's ears, and her face fell as cold realization struck home.

"You… no—you were going to be the godmother to my…."

If those words had any effect on Judy, there was no trace of it on her face, and even less in her actions when she placed a finger over the trigger. "Exactly. _Were_ ," Judy pointed out.

The polar bear holding Fru-Fru started to growl protectively, mustering whatever little energy reserve it possessed to try and seem menacing in those last moments.

That suave grin never left Nick's face as he whispered, "Close those pretty eyes, sweetheart. You don't wanna see how I decorate this room in red."

Mr. Big was absolutely thrashing now, swiping and kicking his tiny body with reckless abandon. "GNNNNGH!"

"DADDY!"

 _ **BANG.**_

…

…..

….

 **5:48am, Rainforest District**

The television screen of some law-abiding citizen of Rainforest District was nothing but a field of boring static, as was unusual when the weather acted up.

Then it fizzled, a brief glimpse of something….

A bright flash brought the visage of a tigress in a business suit into crystal focus. She was holding a microphone and trying hard to listen to whatever was coming into her earpiece.

"I believe we're getting confirmation that—hold on… it's coming in… yes, yes we have it! Officials on the site are now confirming that Mr. Big, the notorious crime lord, also owner of numerous business ventures, including the Tundratown Limousine Service, has been found dead in his office! From what we're getting, it appears to have been a mass homicide from Mr. Big to the numerous polar bears under his employment!

"As we wait for more information to come in, such as a motive or possible identity of the perpetrator, can safely assume that the towering Mr. Big empire has finally come to an end—wait… wait… oh! This just in, his daughter, one Fru-Fru, is currently MIA! At the time of this report, she hasn't been spotted amongst the dead and the authorities can't give us a confirmation on her current location—"

 _Click_.

Interest lost, the channel changed. Death was nothing new in Zootopia, and with the infamous Mr. Big now six-feet-deep, there would only be more.

Lots more.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you for the reviews!

Chapter 2: "God help them"

* * *

 **7:38am**

Thwump.

 _ **Thwump.**_

Thwu-

Wump.

The dragging footsteps of the weary came to a pause, only for a much louder, far heavier noise to take its place when Nick's chin collided with the door.

"Easy there, fox-boy." Despite the command, there was no energy in Judy's tone. It was a struggle just for her to crest the staircase after him and make it to the third floor. Upon which she instantly fell to her knees, paws slamming to the hardwood floor. "Can… can we spell exhausted?"

Nick continued his slow descent down the unyielding door, thudding to his knees as well and leaving his body contorted in a way that suggested a broken spine. "Yeah. M-E," he replied, muffled. "Mmmm… wood varnish, tasty…"

"Quit tasting the door, stupid fox. Just… the moment we get inside I'll… I'll do the thing," Judy managed to squeeze out, "with the pans and stuff—I'll cook us something, I mean."

"My stomach will forever sing of your praise, carrots."

The duo couldn't remember the last time fatigue had struck them like this, rendering them physically unable to even climb stairs and open doors. Then again, when glanced back through the annoying eyes of hindsight, neither of them could remember the last time a case had taken them _this_ long to accomplish.

Nine. Long. Days.

All the stake-outs, the leads, the misleading leads, running around in circles, the not eating, being sustained on nothing but water for two of those nine days had been a hell neither had ever thought they'd experience.

"Although… to be fair… there's nothing like water from the Tundra district," Nick pointed out, one finger raised. He was on his back now, having given up entirely. Next to him lie Judy, equally as defeated. He managed a tired grin. "That, you cannot deny."

Every blink was an assault on her consciousness, an almighty tug beckoning her into that sweet, sweet darkness, but now was definitely not the time, not there, not right outside her own apartment. "I can't deny that, no," she said, and, wow, did chuckling hurt, "but _you_ can't deny that two days without a shower and you could wilt an entire carrot field with the smell."

"The fact that you're able to fire shots without a gun is something I will always find fascinating, carrots…."

"One of my charms, no?"

"One of many."

Their chuckles petering into nothing, the duo fell silent, two chests rising and falling softly, struggling to regain every ounce of energy they could.

"…What you said earlier, though—" started Nick.

"And here we go," Judy said with a roll of her eyes.

"—don't act like you were a basket of freshly picked cherries, either," the fox continued, as though there had been no interruption. "From what _I_ recall, someone—"

"—had just the _most_ intoxicating aroma your weak nose has ever had the pleasure to inhale," finished Judy with some flair.

Nick's nostrils twitched. "Very musky…."

"And yet, your nose was so far in my neck I almost thought I'd grown a tumor." She bumped him with her hip. "Being a male means that instead of reeling away at my—what did you call it?—my… did you have to pick such an unattractive word?"

"Musk. The word—is musk." He bumped her back, smirking. "Push on, carrots."

"Instead of reeling away at my… _musk_ , you reveled in it. Because you, my good fox, are both male and, most enticingly, a male _predator_."

When she suddenly tapped him on the very tip of his snout, there was little else Nick could do but sigh.

"Right," he muttered. "Pheromones, the perfume of nature."

The smile that lit up Judy's face, Nick noticed, was both wonderfully beatific and terribly woebegone at the same time. "See, I knew you weren't a furbrain underneath all that idiocy."

"Yeah, well, much as I'm enjoying how soft and warm this cold and hard floor is, this furbrain is getting mighty hungry, mighty fast."

Judy looked shocked. "Why, I never. There's a perfectly edible, _helpless_ bunny right next to you, and you pass her up?"

"Pass her—what in the world are you—" It was then that Nick noticed the pose Judy had fixed herself into next to him, namely the all-too-provocative 'help, help me' pose. "I don't… are you saying you want me to eat you?"

There was no hiding the snarky grin slowly growing over Nick's face, still spotted with blood not his own, but Judy did a fascinating job at matching it.

"I'm saying you can, if you want."

Something sparked in Nick's gaze, something with a primal glint, something that overrode his exhaustion with a near uncontrollable urge… He licked his lips. "Sooo this would be, what," he said, staring her prone form up and down, "bunny cop with a side of thighs? Talk about your fancy home cooked meals."

Home… cooked….

The sensual flair to Judy's tired smile died like a waning fire, flickering until it was completely extinguished, replaced by something cold. She was still staring at Nick, staring him right in the eye even, but her mind was gone, mentally jettisoned into another plane of thought.

Home cooked….

Her nose twitched. Odd, how she could still smell it… that saliva-beckoning aroma that usually accompanied whatever delicacy her mother had cooked up for the day. Every day. Of every week. Of every single year, always cooking, for Judy and all her two-hundred and seventy-five brothers and sisters. It was a marvel, downright miraculous, how she managed such a feat day in and day out….

More incredible than that, she always sent Judy a care package, every Friday like clockwork. Nothing too special, some carrots here, a book she thought Judy would be interested in there; half the time they were just letters from the family, from the brothers and sisters she had unknowingly inspired since 'saving' Zootopia.

 _I really miss those letters…._

Two months into it, two months after locking Bellwether up and throwing away the key, here comes Chief Bogo. Special assignment, Rainforest District, another missing animal. Only one lead, some stuttering goat in protective custody by the name of Barnaby Baaahgins.

" _So, there really are three 'A's in the last name,"_ Judy had said.

Nick thought he'd hurt himself laughing.

Three days later, Barnaby escaped amidst a prison riot.

Approximately twenty-nine hours later, Judy, Nick, and half of forensics were picking up little chunks of Barnaby strewn about Rainforest District where he was reportedly last seen.

" _Whatever happened to the days when the criminals would leave a flaming bag of buttmud on your step?_ " Nick had wondered back then, disgusted as he picked up something that might have been an ear. _"Have we progressed so far?"_

It was little more than a message, that much was clear. A message to back down, to let it go, or they would meet the same grisly end.

Of course, that wasn't an option.

Eight days after that, Judy's usual care package came in the mail, same as it always did. She remembered… the smell of an obvious carrot cake, perfectly made just for her and Nick… the smell of fresh greens… the smell of blood….

When two horribly familiar rabbit tails rolled out with the bunches of Brussel sprouts, Judy could vividly remember her descent: it started with shock, then a gut-wrenching realization that led to her screaming, then crying, completely oblivious to Nick as he pulled her into him, shielding her from seeing any further.

There was a note stuck in the cake. It was another threat, this one signed with what looked like a bloody paw print.

From a rabbit.

From her mother, most likely, judging by the size.

Judy remembered floating after that… floating from here to there, from the funeral to sobbing family members, from that lead to this lead, never really paying attention to anything. She remembered having to leave the note-taking and clue-finding portion of the case to Nick for a couple weeks afterwards while she took over the interrogation portion whenever they found a witness.

A weak-willed witness was no fun for her. They had no spine, no urge to fight and protect their brand of criminal activity; they had the annoying tendency to crumble like a deck of cards after one glance into Judy's hollow eyes.

Utterly worthless….

She lived for the headstrong witnesses, the ones who determinedly fixed their jaws shut after screaming out a defiant "Fuck you!" or something like that. Now _those_ were the types that Judy took the utmost pleasure in making talk; those were the ones that made her smile, the ones that helped soothed the ache and keep away the bad thoughts.

They eventually solved the case, some six days later. Some head elephant by the name of Elliot Thicktrunk, hiding out in Vine Country of the Rainforest District, peddling some new kind of drug under the codename "Drought" who didn't take kindly to officers arresting his main pushers.

The orders handed down were to the point and Judy remembered Chief Bogo addressing the room: " _Bring the bastard in for a formal questioning. I know what he's done—we all know what he's done, but there's a way this has to be done or things get messy, and we do not want messy._ " Then he was speaking directly to her without making the slightest bit of eye-contact. " _It's not easy… being on the right side of the law is never easy, especially when it's this fucked up, but we wear these badges for a reason. We have a responsibility to remain on levels far above the cockroaches of the underworld. I know… it's tough… but please, officer Hopps… please._ "

It was the first time Judy had ever seen Chief Bogo beg, and probably a first for the other more seasoned officers given their stunned expressions, and, when put on the spot, Judy had agreed. In the moment, however, when they had finally caught up with Thicktrunk after a three-hour chase throughout the moist canopies of Rainforest District, Judy chose to play spectator, watching as Thicktrunk struggled to pull himself free of an overturned car consumed by a blazing fire. His girth had him caught in the window while his screams of fear and agony pushed Judy to approach, shrugging off the impeding hand Nick had placed on her shoulder.

She knelt down in front of Elliot as if she couldn't feel the blistering heat threatening to set fire to her fur, as if she had no fear of the car exploding at any moment. " _I want you to know two things_ ," she told Thicktrunk calmly. The stomach-turning smell of burning elephant hide was something she'd probably never forget. " _One, in that package I got—the one that had my parents tails in it?—one of your, um… cohorts—he's dead by the way—he wrote that it looks like rabbit tails aren't so lucky. Well, like I told him, it's rabbits feet. Our feet. That's what lucky, not our tails. And two…._ " She reached out, patting the uproariously screaming mammal consolingly on the head. " _I forgive you._ "

That was all she could recall about the incident before things went black, but from Nick's account while they gave testimony, less than three seconds later, she had succumbed to heat exhaustion, which left Nick with no other choice but to pull her to safety. The car exploded as they knew it would, taking Elliot Thicktrunk with it.

It wasn't a very pretty way to close out a case – especially considering all the collateral damage, the civil unrest, the low minority who considered most of the ZPD loose cannons, and, of course, the paperwork that would need to be filed – but it was finished.

For some.

Throughout the course of the case, the ZPD had found enough evidence to suggest that the now deceased Elliot Thicktrunk possessed accomplices in the shadows, meaning, being the ones who 'killed' Thicktrunk – as the public saw it given the now viral video of Judy's last moments with the elephant – Judy and Nick would have to go into protective custody.

" _That's a negative, my good buffalo_ ," Nick had said when the issue came up. " _After what that video showed, I seriously doubt anyone, prey or predator for that matter, is going to come after us. And if they do, God help 'em, I say._ "

"God… help them," she uttered now, coming back to reality. It took her a few seconds to realize that Nick was staring at her, patient enough to let her finish going down whatever memory lane she had tripped onto.

"You done, carrots?" he asked, a note of rarely heard sincerity behind his words. Those glistening emerald eyes of his, they seemed to bore directly into her, into what she hid from everyone else.

Smirking, she reached up, once again tapping him on the nose. "I don't think I'll ever be 'done' – like how you mean anyway – but am I okay, you mean?" Her nose twitched in thought. "Nope, don't think I'll ever be that, either."

"My but that was an annoying answer," he chuckled, "though I guess that just means you're back to normal. The way you just clammed up – I almost bit you."

"And Lord knows we wouldn't have wanted that," mused Judy, moments before she flipped onto her front and made the climb to her feet. That stroll down memory lane had been good for something, she realized, having gathered a bit of energy from being prone for so long. Nick offered up a golf clap.

"Well look at Carrots here, standing with those thick, strong legs."

His taunting didn't last long when she stepped down on his stomach, applying the slightest bit of pressure just to hear him groan, not even bothering to hide her snide smirk. "You going to keep talking, or are you hungry?" she asked simply.

Even though Nick and Judy had adamantly refused to go into protective custody, there wasn't a mammal alive who could resist Clawhauser when he put on 'the face', that legendary simpering frown known to even sway Chief Bogo when hit with it dead-on. So they agreed to share an apartment together for the time being, which was only just three floors up from Judy's original dwelling, but this one at least came with two bathrooms and an actual kitchen. Days passed, weeks passed – they tried to leave and go their separate ways more than thrice only to be leveled with 'the look' once more. Apparently, Clawhauser wasn't going to be satisfied until the entire crime ring had been dissolved, something they were making progress in, and hopefully after tonight, had finally put to bed.

"I swear," Nick walked out of the still-steaming bathroom in a tee and shorts, digging in his ear with his bath towel, "the next time I see Claws? He's getting a bar of _organic_ chocolate."

From the couch where she was curled up, Judy giggled. "You might as well just shoot him," she said as he plopped down next to her. "It'd be the same thing basically. You know how Clawhauser feels about his snacks. Fat-free, sugar-free, that's like poison for the poor guy." She possessed a higher need for freedom than Nick after so many days being stuffed into her uniform and opted for one of his larger tee's, which was like double-large on her small form.

Settling deeper into the couch, Nick had only just kicked his feet up on the coffee table when Judy gently, and patiently, nudged them right back off.

"You know better than that, lazy fox," she admonished with a barely stifled yawn, ignoring Nick's scoff.

"See, this is why we could never live together, denying a tired fox his lounge time – why, that's been known to cause riots," he muttered, ignoring the temptation to test his bunny partner. It just didn't seem nice considering she cooked him a pretty good meal – mostly vegetables, but still.

He picked up the remote, giving her a sideways glance. Normally, she avoided his clothing like the plague unless the stench got so bad she was forced to do laundry or else called fumigation – but this… purposefully wearing one of his shirts? "Well, this is new. Don't tell me you actually ran out of clean clothes before me for once?"

Without taking her eyes off the TV and his distracted channel surfing, Judy hunched a shoulder, that hint of a grin clearly visible. "I happened to notice this was the only shirt you ever bothered to hang up, so I decided to give it a whirl before you inevitably ruined it with your roughhousing."

Channels were flying by in a blur. Nick was looking right at the set but his mind was so focused on their conversation that his thumb continued to press the button without any input on his part. "Roughhousing? Me?" He snorted, pressing more quickly than before. "I'm quite sure you have me confused with some other fella, fluffy."

Judy tucked her legs up more snuggly next to her, comfortably content while wearing Nick's shirt. Her nose twitched – his scent was still lingered on it, lightly peppered, letting her know that he rarely wore this one. It was probably special – even if the phrase over the front, 'Hot Fuzz', suggested something completely different. "Oh, do I?" She turned to stare at him with a royal grin. "So last weekend that wasn't you out on the academy fields wrestling with Trunkaby and Higgins?"

The cringing wince Nick gave was all the answer she needed. "Nope, must have been that new fox that just started, heard his name was Wick Nildes."

"What a very familiar sounding name. Would that be your idiot twin brother?"

"More like distance cousin. Twice removed. They say he's got some sort of mental instability."

"Oh, I bet. After seeing him get tossed about like a ragdoll out there, I don't doubt it for a second."

The laugh they shared only served to ease the tension concerning a topic that neither really wanted to broach at the moment. After another sleepless night, they definitely didn't think it fair to have to discuss things of a sobering nature so quickly.

Unfortunately, as Nick's thumb betrayed them by flicking to a certain channel, they were reminded that life didn't give two pelts about being fair.

"…several officers are on the scene there – they haven't moved since late last night… no, I can't just jump the police line! You trying to get me sent to jail?" The female news zebra looked affronted at the inaudible suggestion of her cameraman. "I'm not a fan of being tasered, thank you very much. I'm sure they'll let us get closer as soon as they get the area under control…."

"At first I was surprised, but then it hit me," Judy pointed at the screen, her fuzzy finger indicating specifically at the late Mr. Big's limousine headquarters just barely visible over the zebras shoulder, "this is probably top priority for a lot of mammals right now… Mr. Big being gone."

"Not gone, Carrots. _Dead_." There was something tight in Nick's tone, and his gaze was narrowed at the TV. Also in the background of the shot, there were numerous other reporters from the various other stations of Zootopia, each of them wondering about in just as much of a cloud of confusion as the zebra host. "Wish I could have a job where all I had to do was loiter outside a crime scene and wait for some morbid news to break. Sounds like free money to me…"

It was slightly disconcerting to think that sooner or later, the two of them would have to report to the ZPD in order to give their report and fill out the necessary files for the 'completion' of this sweep lest they incur the wrath of Chief Bogo, who they would more than likely catch hell from anyway given their sudden disappearance, but, at the moment, Judy could think of no other place she'd rather be than where she was right now: slowly and inconspicuously inching her way closer to Nick. It wasn't every day that he actually smelled presentable.

Add to it, he was warm, she could feel it.

That was an anomaly she found truly annoying. This sly fox next to her seemed to ooze a warmth that was different from any other, which she found both comforting and disturbing. Because the warmth soothed her, sometimes when she didn't even want to be soothed, which meant he wielded some modicum of control over her, however small….

"-think the daughter got away to?" Nick finished asking, glancing her way.

"If she's smart, she got out of the planet," Judy responded without missing a beat. While her mind had been miles away, on other matters, her keen ears had done her the solid of keeping up with Nick's conversation.

Something a grin spread through Nick's features. "That's a pretty big 'if'. That shrew didn't look any brighter than my cousin Wick."

Damn it all, she didn't want to laugh at that, but it was so unexpected, and she was so unprepared, that she couldn't help it.

"Holy cheese and crackers, you're an idiot…."

"Got you to laugh, though," Nick responded easily.

Sucking her teeth, Judy bumped him with her hip, taking note of but remaining silent to when his nose twitched at the contact. "That doesn't stop me from being disgusted that I ever fell in with them in the first place…."

Now Nick flung both arms behind him, over the back of the couch, reclining even further into his laziness. "Hey, carrots, look… in the end, it all worked out, right? You fell in, he fell out. Of life. That's a fair trade, if you ask me. With everything he'd done behind the scenes, all the trafficking and illegal substance distribution, it's not like he didn't have it coming."

"Well," she started grudgingly, not wanting to give herself any leeway for forgiveness, "maybe. One term comes to mind to describe it, that the ends justify the means… and I hate that kind of ideology more than mushy carrots…."

Suddenly, Nick was looking alert, his head snapping in Judy's direction with an almost audible crack. "More than mushy carrots? Whooooa, that must be like, some kind of tenth-degree type hatred right there! You know what you should do? You should write a strongly worded letter of dissatisfaction to yourself to make sure you never do this again."

Without even an ounce of thought, Judy responded, "I should write a letter telling you to bite my ass, how about that?"

"Careful what you wish for, carrots, next thing you know you'll be facedown ass-up wondering how it all happened," said Nick with something of a snort.

"Pretty sure if I were facedown and ass-up, I'd be too busy groaning to wonder anything," Judy said with a thoughtful glance toward the ceiling, which subtly turned into a challenging grin, "unless, of course, a certain fox wasn't doing his part right…."

Even the considerably bright glow of the TV couldn't hide the reddening patches adorning Nick's cheeks. "I might do it _too_ well," he spoke, his voice surprisingly even, "next thing you know we got us a litter running around here."

"A litter…? You mean little ones running, hopping—whatever a spawn of us would do—with half _your_ genes?" Judy snorted, shaking her head while Nick looked affronted, his mouth hanging open.

"Excuuuuse me, longfoot—"

"Oh, longfoot now? How nice," Judy interrupted, but Nick continued as though hearing nothing.

"—but I'll have you know that my genes are the pinnacle of greatness!" he proclaimed with a righteous flair.

Judy found that abnormally cute, mostly because she could see he really thought that to be true. Didn't stop her from giggling one bit, though, which only serve to annoy him further.

"Hey, I'm serious! You'd be one lucky rabbit to get a load of this baby batter, lemme tell you."

"Better you than your twice removed cousin, right?"

"Right! …Hey!"

"What, you didn't know? Me and Wick have been office sweethearts for a few months now, I thought he told you?"

"Surprisingly, no, no he has not," said Nick with a grinning snort.

The banter between them continued on for the better half of an hour until both parties lapsed into a thoughtful silence, still half-heartedly watching that same news station, with those same reporters waiting on the scene for news to seem unlikely to ever break.

Which made all kinds of sense. The two of them didn't see Chief Bogo, but they could be rest assured he had been informed of the situation, and then he'd probably turned around and informed the officers present, in his dread-inducing tones no doubt, that he would have their hides if they let the media in.

After a moment, Nick shuffled, tilting sideways at a nonchalant pace until his head was on Judy's shoulder. "Whatta you think he meant when he said it was all part of a bigger scheme?" he wondered casually, never once thinking in their silence that his partner had fallen asleep.

And she hadn't. Judy sat there as alert and awake as ever, though with her heart running at a slightly faster pace since that fox had laid his head on her. Mentally, she wondered if he could hear. "Ideally, I'd like to think he was just blowing smoke," she replied evenly enough, automatically knowing what Nick was referring to. That cryptic last message from Mr. Big. "Realistically, it probably means that this goes far beyond what we originally thought, or that we've inadvertently set something drastic into motion…."

Nick's gaze tightened. "Yeah, I… I was thinking the same thing."

"…Liar."

"I know you are, but am I?"

"A liar, I just said," Judy answered.

"…Fair enough. Guess we'll pay a visit to ol' Gator Sheep tomorrow, eh?"

Now it was Judy's turn to look stunned, like she had caught sight of Nick snorting coke. "Um, no? Are you kidding me? Tomorrow's our day off, our first in, what, forever? We put in for this weeks ago!"

"And we can probably expect to be out of a job for longer than a few weeks if we don't drop in and explain our hand in this case that so obviously reeks of Nick and Judy," Nick reasoned, only to quickly shake his head, flummoxed. "Whoa, is this _me_ with the common sense for once?"

It crossed Judy's mind to shrug the snide fox off her, but it quickly dissolved when that placating warmth from before took a running lap around her heart. Like she thought, it was definitely an unfavorable sedative, that feeling of comfort exuding from her partner.

Also, he _was_ right for once. For once, which did not make up for his literally hundreds of other braindead plans and options, so that upside-down smug grin he was leveling her with was completely unnecessary and unwarranted in her book.

"This case has utterly depleted my carrot juice reserves and this sly fox wants to go right back into the lion's den without a chance to recharge… I don't believe this."

When that heady silence rolled in, Judy realized all too late what she had said and not even lifting a threatening fist could have stopped Nick from uttering, "I could get those carrot juices flowing again, longfoot," and he continued to grin even after her furry fist connected with his face. It was a halfhearted blow that did little to blind him to the red hue heating the skin beneath her fur.

"Weirdo…."

He kissed the paw at his snout. "Yup, but you love me anyway."

"Course I do."

And she really did, more than friends even. She— _they_ —had come to realize this shortly after Nick became the first fox to join the ZPD. At first, they tried to convince themselves that it was only because of the prolonged company, of basically being shackled together due to the nature of the case, that brought about those feelings of want.

But they knew. And it had all started when Nick uttered those damn five words: _You know you love me_.

It served to drive home the previously ignored fact that, yes, she really did love him. And when she replied in the affirmative, albeit smugly at the time, it helped him see that he felt the same.

Although merely admitting their feelings for one another wasn't enough, for very long anyway, but the idea of beginning a relationship, of the possibility of bringing up a family, effectively killed any forward moving momentum they might have been able to build up. Because for all its public-related claims to being an accepting utopia where anyone could be anything, Zootopia was so dangerously short-minded and conservative that even the mere whisper concerning the thought of wanting to pursue a predator-prey relationship, let alone a child, would more than likely get one stoned, dragged through the media mud, and then ousted from the community altogether.

Not to say the two of them didn't try out the option designed for quick release between two very amorous, very well-connected mammals regardless of societal standing. They figured they could at least do that and keep it under wraps.

Until the awkwardness hit and they called it quits halfway through, mostly due to Nick's fear that once he started he wouldn't be able to stop even if he wanted to.

" _You know, it's just… sometimes… when you get something you didn't realize you wanted for so damn long, stopping might be an impossible option… sorry, carrots._ "

In the moment, she had understood him perfectly, and was more than a little relieved that he had brought it up before she could. Now, though, after some time had passed and feelings had been carefully digested, she liked to think back to that night, when the both of them were bereft of clothing and vulnerable, when she was curled against his front with her paws struggling to cover every inch of her tomato-red face….

She liked to think back and wonder just what would have happened, if _it_ had happened?

"Regular officer work hours begin at six, so we're already stalled out the gate," Nick began with a long exhale that turned into a small grin, "buuuut, PTF work hours begin basically whenever we want it to, so we've got a fair bit of leeway."

He was talking as if the matter of them going in tomorrow had already been settled, and for all intent and purposes, it had.

"Because Chief Bogo will so care what department we're in when it comes to attendance," Judy said, a tingle of dread running down her spine at the very thought of being tardy, "not to mention, yeah, lead officers of the recently closed case…."

" _Very_ recently closed…."

While Nick was busy overcoming stereotypes and setting records as the first fox to be inducted into the ZPD, Judy was busy generating her own buzz and recognition for being the first mammal of prey to be invited into the PTF, the _Primal Task force_. Predominantly a predator-operated subsection of the ZPD, the PTF normally took on the more 'undercover' operations of the city and elsewhere, for when operations needed to stay out of the public eye, or when a 'clean sweep' was authorized.

Needless to say, what with their latest operation now being aired on channels three, five, and eleven, they would have quite a fair bit of explaining to do….

She could almost envision Chief Bogo calmly mounting her head on the wall over his desk. "Part of me wants to write my next of kin and tell them not to expect me home for Christmas," Judy muttered with a drawn-out sigh.

"Well, damn," began Nick, "we'd need a whole lotta ink and paper for that, wouldn't we? Your next of kin would constitute, what, like two hundred others?"

A very strong expletive jumped to the tip of Judy's tongue, but she swallowed it, rolling her eyes. "See, that's you being needlessly complicated. It'd just take one letter with the header 'hey, you all', stupid fox."

She felt something warm connect with her cheek, and then Nick was leaning the opposite way, curling up comfortably on his side of the couch with a wide-mawed yawn.

"Well, if you wanna be all impersonal about it, sure. Anyway, we've got about thirty, maybe forty minutes to catch some z's, carrots," he mumbled, already beginning to drift off, "so make good use of 'em…."

Even if she wanted to fall asleep, which seemed an impossibility given the spike in her heartbeat brought on by that surprise kiss, Judy turned to stare at her partner, trying to decide whether she wanted to kick him off the couch or snuggle into that perfect little spot between his arms.

"Decisions, decisions…."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Gonna miss 'em.

Chapter 3: "Bingo"

* * *

Forty minutes seemed to zoom by at an annoyingly unfair rate, so quickly that Judy felt as if she'd only blinked and it was already time to get up. Which left her feeling very grumpy and unwilling to move as she sat there, still in Nick's shirt and still with her eyes glued to the television.

The news had come and go like a flash of lightning, and it only consisted of that news zebra from earlier looking harassed, frustrated, and about two seconds from tearing her hair out before the station- indeed, all the stations- decided it was a wasted endeavor and cut the feed.

None of that was surprising. It would be a very cold day in hell before Chief Bogo allowed the media to soil an investigation scene before he had a chance to do thorough sweep of it.

"Heeeeeey, Carrots," came that annoyingly whimsical singsong voice.

Like her neck had grown rusty, Judy's head slowly revolved, almost with an unsettling _creeeeak_ , and she held that grinning fox in her weary gaze. "What?" she snapped.

It was if her obvious annoyance flew clear over Nick's head because he dropped down onto the couch next to her, causing her to bounce, and sighed with relief, the most dopiest grin ever growing over his face. "You, carrots… you have one big, soft bunny booty," he noted.

Despite her tiredness, despite her vexation and reluctance to agree with a single word that fell from that fox's lips, Judy couldn't help but roll her eyes, huffing with an attempt at seeming indifferent. "My rear is _not_ big."

"Ooooh, yeah it is, did the job rather nicely, too," Nick countered.

"Be quiet…."

"Why?" Now Nick aimed his grin at her, those sharp canines of his glistening. "Wait, wait, wait… I see those rosey cheeks! Don't tell me carrots is—gasp!— _embarrassed_?" He slapped his hands to his cheeks, wide-eyed. "Oh, but that can't be, can it? This has to be the what, sixth time? Seventh?"

Ninth, Judy corrected in the safety of her mind. "And it gets no less degrading each time…."

"And yet, folks, she does it every single time that I ask," Nick pointed out with a grin that seemed to shine with the light beginning to infiltrate their safehouse.

Now Judy chuckled, her nose twitching. "Ask, you say? Oh, you poor fox," she said with a sympathetic little 'tsk'. "You must suffer from amnesia, because what I recall is a lot of begging. A _lot_ of a lot of begging. I didn't know foxes could whine so convincingly."

"You mean the whining during? I'd say that's pretty par the course, Carrots. You were really goin' at it, just back and forth… baaaack and forth…" Nick faded in his words, his hands acting out a swaying motion while his mind had clearly sank into the past.

Even if she would never make mention out loud, seeing him so dumbfounded and enamored after each of their sessions was one of Judy's biggest delights. She was smiling before she could help it.

"Maybe you should just get yourself a dedicated girlfriend," she offered coolly. "Beats being pent up all the time and asking for me, ah… services, right?"

Nick didn't respond to that right away, still pantomiming their earlier activity as if he could still feel her against him. "Now why would I go and do that?" he asked, finally settling back down and cocking a brow. "You've got the softest, firmest butt around, Carrots."

Inwardly, Judy liked to think so, taking great care in her exercise regimen to keep her fluffy rear as shapely and robust as it was. Nowadays it was sometimes a pain to squeeze into her uniform but the figure she saw whenever she glanced at herself in the mirror only made the effort worth it, knowing that it would attract the attention of a certain red-furred predator.

Not that it was only for his benefit, she told herself confidently. Being in shape was just par the course for a member of the ZPD, and especially the PTF branch.

…And if Nick just so happened to find himself unable to keep his paws off her hips or his wandering fingers from giving her rear a pinch at times, it was only natural. Predators were naturally attracted to prey, after all, it didn't have to mean anything more than playful curiosity.

Annnnd, so what if sometimes Nick needed some form of release and liked to ask for her help? She was his partner, not really much choice there.

"I think you might have an infatuation with my rear," she said matter-of-factly, beginning the long task of unraveling herself from the bundle of blankets. "Your requests are getting steadily more frequent."

To this, Nick only shrugged, stretching out all four of his lengthy limbs. "Well… it's tough out there, y'know, being so handsome, being chased by the females, takes a toll to remain so upright and just, ignore the advances…."

As far as excuses go, that one was pretty piss poor; he'd given better in the past, but by now it was pretty much a ritual every couple of days. He never came right out and asked, of course, no… he was too 'Nick' for that. He would simply drop hints about a "crotch cramp" that needed working out, and that the only thing that could possibly fix it was her.

Specifically, her butt.

"Oh, I'm so sure," she agreed with a heavy roll of her eyes, and she stood, the cold hardwood floor sending shivers up her legs. "Well, if you're so chased, I suppose my services will no longer be required, then."

She would massage the crotch cramp away with some well-formed strokes, up and down, just like Nick had mimed earlier. Up and down, alternating between slow and fast, until she felt him start to spasm beneath her and that intensely hot sensation of sweet release began to grow between them.

He was always satisfied afterwards, always left in a sloppy stupor of happiness, and that made it easy for Judy to inconspicuously shake off her own euphoria. Afterwards, Nick never seemed to notice he had a bigger wet patch than what he himself issued on the crotch of whatever pair of boxers he happened to be wearing at the time- or perhaps he had and just chose to remain silent. Being a fox, the scent of her arousal, and her pheromones, they had to stand out quite clearly…

Judy was rocked back down to the present time when she felt two long, lanky arms wrap around her midsection. Nick was on his knees behind her, hugging her into him and pressing his forehead to her back.

For a long moment, neither said anything, neither made a move. Judy's tail twitched every few seconds, softly beating Nick in the chest.

Eventually, Judy sighed, crossing her arms so tightly it would be a miracle if she ever unraveled them. "Fiiiine," she relented, tilting her head, and she could hear the sudden thumping of Nick's tail as it wagged against the ground, "I suppose I can indulge you a few more times…"

He stood, beaming ear to ear, "And that's why we get along so well, Carrots. You get me."

"And the fact that I do makes me question my own sanity."

Judy sensed it coming before it actually did and thus was saved from flinching when Nick gave her a lingering kiss on the neck, which she had subconsciously offered up. She only just barely managed to staunch the heady moan that rose in her throat, subverting it with a 'tsk!'

"Haven't you had enough of me already?" she asked, shooing him off her with a passive flick of her hand.

"Like you don't enjoy it," Nick shot back with a challenging grin. "I felt that twitch."

He was right, obviously, but admitting that would be like giving him the upper hand. "That's typically how one responds when they're being violated," she responded casually, hoping the words had sailed out as smoothly as she'd intended over the relentless beating of her heart.

"Riiiiight," Nick spun on his heels and made for the bedroom, tossing over his shoulder, "Did you happen to forget you're _the_ Judy Hopps? No one's violating you unless you want 'em too, Carrots."

"I…" It was rare that Nick ever won any of their arguments, currently trailing by some hundred losses, but when Judy found she had no response to that, none that made sense at any rate, she had to giggle. Oh, that sly fox….

The two of them got dressed and choked down whatever crunchy leftovers remained in the fridge. Nick was just grabbing his third cup of coffee, the travel mug that he took to work after downing the first two to wake up, when a tremor shook the apartment and he spilled it.

"Aw, damn it- really?" He grumbled as he snatched up some napkins and set to cleaning the mess. "That was my favorite flavor, too, geez…."

One of Judy's ears had lifted in accordance with the tremor, with the muffled thud that came from next door. "What in the world are they doing next door, at this hour?"

Nick shrugged from the ground. "I dunno, but what I _do_ know is they owe me another cup of- oh, look at this now!" Groaning, he lifted his tie, which had slipped into the mess and was now soaked. "Son of a… they're buying me a new tie, too!"

It was an effort not to laugh but Judy mastered it. "You _could_ wash it, Nick. That's a very viable option."

"That would require me doing laundry. You know I have an aversion to doing laundry, Carrots."

"Yeah, it's called laziness."

"It's called I'm gonna go over there and plant my foot up their ass, actually. I can't believe those two idiots actually moved with us," Nick grunted, squeezing what liquid he could from his tie over the sink. "We go up three floors, they go up three floors, like we're attached at the freaking hip."

That was some slice of preferred familiarity where Judy was concerned. Those two loud-mouthed neighbors that had so rudely introduced themselves when she had first moved to Zootopia… imagine her surprise to find out they were actually a couple. A very, very dysfunctional, borderline toxic couple that seemed to love arguing above all else, but still… a couple.

"I like them," she said, hunching a shoulder when Nick shot her a glare. "What? Just because _you_ had a poor grip on your mug doesn't mean—"

Another bump shook them both, this one coupled with the sound of glass shattering amidst a strangled chorus of grunts and muffled yelps—the beginnings of an agonized cry began to peel through the air until it was cut short by a silenced gunshot.

In an instant, Judy had scooped up her badge from the counter and was at the front door with Nick bringing up the rear, clumsily tucking in his soiled tie and reaching for his weapon harness. He had just fitted it on when Judy flung open the door. The halls were vacant, making it easy for the two officers to take up positions on either side of their neighbor's room.

Unlike before, Judy's heart was succinct, calm and tranquil despite the white-knuckled grip she had on her taser gun. When they weren't undertaking an operation directly from the PTF, the use of live rounds was expressly prohibited. Her sparkling purple eyes met Nick's, conveying a message through gaze alone. He nodded and slowly positioned himself in front of the frame, his own taser gun held at the ready.

Just off the beat of being audible, Judy began tapping her foot.

First tap.

Nick's gaze narrowed, his jaw firming.

Second tap.

Judy's stomach clenched.

Third tap.

The force Nick used to kick the door open almost busted it off the hinges; it banged off the opposite wall with an unholy clatter and they both sprinted in.

"ZPD! FREEZE!"

Their voices boomed forth in a powerful command, but it wasn't necessary. Judy saw nothing to the right and, likewise, all was clear on the left with Nick. There was nothing. Nothing jumped out at them except the silence. The venetian blinds covering a busted window flapped gently in the breeze rolling in, nothing else stirred.

A slow exhale from Nick helped Judy realize that she too had been holding her breath, that her chest was burning, and so she let it go with a long sigh.

While she tried to get her heart back down to calmer levels, Nick moved further into the apartment, his taser still out yet held lazily at his side. He checked the numerous rooms within in the span of a few minutes, declaring an "all clear", before returning to what Judy could only guess was the living room.

A very expensive looking vase lie in a thousand glittering pieces on the floor, the source of that shatter no doubt.

But that wasn't what seized Judy's attention.

Two corpses occupied the blood-smeared couch across from her, propped up to instigate some macabre show of animation. The smoking bullet holes punched into their temples dispelled that illusion with staggering force. Their faces were slack, sagging and limp, their eyes rolling in directions unreachable in life; it almost looked as if the bodies were going to get up at any minute and lurch towards her.

Which would illicit nothing but a never-ending bout of pitched screams from the shell-shocked bunny.

Stepping easily, Nick came to a halt at the side of the couch and merely stared. He stared for a long moment, contemplating. "Alright so…" there was no recording device in Nick's hands but that didn't stop him from following protocol, however loosely, "we have here the bodies of Bucky and Pronk Oryx-Antlerson, residents of the Grand Pangolin, fourth floor, room 126." He bent forward at a lean and, lifting his taser, prodded Pronk's on the forehead, causing the deceased gemsbok to slump over into the lap of its partner.

He straightened up, rubbing at the back of his neck. "You know, I'm trying to feel something here… something close to sympathy, I guess, but all I can muster up is some grade-A annoyance." Nick threw himself around the couch in a defeated march toward the busted window. "And what do we have here?"

"I… They didn't deserve this… Neither of them."

It was whispered, her voice brittle as dry leaves, but Nick caught every word, offering up nothing in return as he examined the blinds, using the end of his pistol to nudge them experimentally.

"There's a few strands of fur here, on the glass," he said, turning to stare at his partner. She hadn't moved an inch since lowering her weapon. "Whoever the culprit was, their exit was a sloppy one, pretty sure forensics could find something useful here…."

Sunlight was bathing the entire living room in its toasty glow, giving everything a glistening, almost ethereal effect, but as Judy began to walk, foot over foot in an unwavering stride, she couldn't remember the last time she had felt so cold.

 _Bucky and Pronk…._

"Judy," Nick's voice seemed to call out to her from five miles away, "what're you—"

With very little effort, she pushed Pronks upright once more, and then, in a move that effectively caused Nick to shut his jowls, she proceeded to climb onto the couch, wiggling into that small space to take a seat between them. Scooting aside the fact that neither Bucky or Pronks were breathing, Judy still looked horribly out of place. She squeezed her knees in quivering hands and closed her eyes. There were still some vestiges of warmth left to be found radiating from her neighbors, and that made sense. Whomever had killed them had just done it, less than one minute before she and Nick had entered the scene, which meant….

Seeing his partner seated almost comfortably between two corpses was a haunting visual Nick never thought he would witness in his life, but there it was. Strangely, the sight made him ill, it even frightened him, seeing her amongst the dead… like she might suddenly join them or….

"Judy—" Nick started anxiously, but again, he fell silent when she suddenly opened her eyes.

"You don't murder two seemingly innocuous bystanders when the bigger fish are right next door," she whispered, more to herself than anyone. "You only do that…."

"When you want to send a message," Nick finished shortly.

Now Judy looked at him. "Exactly."

Nick rapped on the windowsill with his knuckles, brow crumpling in thought. "You don't think… this couldn't possibly be… could it?"

"Could this and what we did to Mr. Big be connected? I wouldn't be surprised if this went all the way back to Thicktrunk."

As if a plug had been pulled within him, Nick slouched against the wall, all that energy gained from his coffee gone. Poof. His chest extended to its fullest before expelling a long sigh. "Great."

"But what I don't get is… who else was there that could've…." Judy paused with a sharp inhale. Something must have sparked to life in her mind because her ears leapt to attention. "When you want to send a message, you usually leave a note, correct?"

Nick nodded, still staring at the ceiling looking drawn and gaunt. "Sounds like sound logic to me, Sher-bunny."

"So… where's the note?"

Nick lifted an orange finger, pointing in her direction. "Check Prick's mouth."

Bypassing the suggestion, Judy's forehead creased with annoyance. "Nick."

"What?"

"His name is Pronk. Show some respect for the dead."

The look that fell over Nick's face suggested Judy had lapsed into French. "Um… no? The guy was a massive dick when he was alive, Carrots. That doesn't suddenly morph into my respect now that he's been deep-sixed."

Frowning, Judy stared her up at her still neighbor, narrowing her eyes at Pronk's face. His jaw looked a little too set for having just been shot in the forehead. "It's not about how you feel about the person, Nick… it's about having the common decency to lament the loss of life."

"Hey, I just lost a relatively easy day at work, is anybody gonna lament that?"

Normally, Judy would have debated Nick further on the issue, but, in another shocking twist, he was right. Besides reporting to Chief Bogo and taking their daily flogging and doing some follow-up reports to the Mr. Big case, today was looking to be quite procedural with a high chance of ass pain. Now, though….

She slipped one of her fingers between Pronk's lips. They were cold to the touch and nauseatingly squishy, like jelly.

"Okay, one, that's gross, Carrots," there was no hiding the disgust in Nick's tone as he adverted his eyes elsewhere, "and two, we have gloves, y'know, for just this sorta thing, it literally comes with the job. It'd only take a hop and a skip back to the apartment. Presto, gloves."

Something of a scoff left Judy as she fished about Pronk's mouth. "And here they always taught us it was the prey that had weak stomachs. Way to disprove that rumor, Mr. Pred."

"I disproved it on my second day on the force. Remember the spider? Remember how I yelled so loud only Wolford could hear me? Damn near broke the sound barrier that day."

"And cue the long string of spider-themed pranks," Judy chuckled, now popping two fingers into that moist cave. She could feel something in there, all right, something pointed, like paper, that had been roughly shoved into Pronk's oral cavity and damn near down his throat.

"We'd probably still be at war if one of those pranks hadn't caught Chief Bogo up in the mix," Nick said, then continued musingly, "Had no idea he didn't fancy spiders, though… but I guess a desk full of daddy longlegs would cause anyone to faint. Can't blame him."

Conversing was a great distraction for Judy who knew she would have definitely spewed her freshly eaten breakfast all over the place if her mind was allowed to completely focus on what she was doing. True, being a member of the PTF meant moments like these were a dime a dozen, but that in no way trained the stomach to withstand it, just the mind

Half her hand was in Pronk's mouth now, digging and digging, and she cursed her short fingers.

"Damn, Carrots, didn't know you were so forceful on the first date," joked Nick and even though she couldn't see it, Judy knew he was giving her that shit-eating grin.

"Whatever twisted soul put this in here, put it in _deep_ ," she grunted, feeling oddly as though Pronks were alive and trying to consume her hand. "Oh… oh—hold on… Bingo."

A terrible squelching noise filled the air when Judy pulled a very bloody piece of paper from Pronk's mouth, breaking the strands of saliva that accompanied it. She held it up for Nick to see and he offered a golf clap.

"Congratulations, Carrots."

"How—urgh… how'd you know this w-was in there?" she sniffed, nearly retching. The smell of the note, that grimy, decayed stench had her head swimming.

"Earlier when I was staring at 'em, I noticed a lump in his cheek," Nick explained while she shook the letter as dry as she could get it. "Figured it was either a message in a bottle or the murderers had stuffed him with one of the toys I'm sure these two freaks have stashed around here."

"Lovely. _Catch_."

"Oh, you have _got_ to be jok—" Instinctively, Nick extended his hand a ways to the right, catching the balled up note when Judy tossed it. It smacked into his palm and he grinned. "Your throwing arm is still such shit."

"Eat me."

"Aha, looking to move up from crotch cramp massages, are we? I don't blame you," he chuckled, delicately unfurling the moist paper, "sometimes you just have to switch things up, keep it interesting."

He took a pause to read, and continued to stay silent even after he finished, flipping it over to see if anything was on the back. "Hm."

"Hm? What's hm?" Judy wondered. She would have read the note herself but she was already nauseous and the need to get as far away as possible from what she had snatched from her neighbor's unwilling thorax was an urge she couldn't fight. It was either that or fall apart into the weaker Judy Hopps that existed before her parents' deaths.

And there could be none of that.

While she waited for Nick to answer, she wiped her trembling hands on Pronks' shirt, respect be damned. She could feel those secretions trying to seep through her matted fur, through her flesh, and it nearly caused her to scream out loud. Besides, it was Pronk's saliva to begin with, she was just giving it back.

"It says, 'consider this a warning. We are coming for you.'" There was something humorous in Nick's tone. "I'd be at least a little intimidated if they'd managed to spell 'warning' right. Since when did the 'a' get replaced with an 'e'?"

The heat was completely gone now. The only thing that circulated between the two cadavers Judy sat between was a spine-tingling chill. Death, pure and absolute.

She hopped down and crossed over to Nick, suddenly eager to put great distance between herself and the deceased Antlersons.

"Should we call it in?" Nick asked.

"Do we have a choice?"

"Well, we could just walk away. Pretend we didn't see anything? We have plausible deniability here—I always talked shit about these guys, as good a reason as any not to investigate without drawing suspicion."

Judy couldn't even begin to get upset with Nick for his suggestion. Because she knew he didn't mean it. "Tempting as that sounds, and it sounds better than a fresh bowl of carrot stew, you're technically the first fox to make it on the force, and I'm the first of prey descent to be inducted into the Primal Task sector. I think our standards have been automatically set above and beyond the others."

Chuckling, Nick pulled out a little baggie from his back pocket, an evidence bag now that Judy stared, and dropped the note inside.

She smirked. "Ever ready, eh, you sly fox?"

"Like you said, high standards, Carrots."


End file.
